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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330592">Vigil</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalforgetmenots/pseuds/crystalforgetmenots'>crystalforgetmenots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Botanist Warrior of Light, F/M, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, warrior of light needs therapy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:07:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalforgetmenots/pseuds/crystalforgetmenots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's quiet in Amaurot. The Warrior of Light is alone, winding her way through the streets towards the Capitol. Maybe, she thinks, she'll finally find answers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch &amp; Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vigil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You know, would it have killed you to scale your perfect recreation down, just a little? It takes me 15 minutes to walk here from the Aetherythe plaza.” The Warrior of Light huffed, placing her back against the giant set of double doors at the far end of the Capitol building. She gingerly slid down to sit on the floor, staring out at the city through the propped-open far doors. Reaching into her bag, she placed a bundle of white wildflowers on the floor next to her. “I brought flowers from Il Mheg.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No response came. She knew there wouldn’t be a response, but it stung nonetheless. “I didn’t tell the others I was coming here. I knew they’d have a fit about it, so I lied and said I was going to fulfill an order for the Crystalline Mean. I’m going to need a new excuse soon though, I’m not sure how many times I can say I need to help Qeshi-Rae find Samiel moltings before they think I’m crazy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence. “But if I can’t come up with anything else, I guess I’ll keep using it. I keep hoping that the next time I find myself at Macarenses Angle I’ll remember something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could almost hear Emet-Selch’s—Hades’s—wry reply, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hero, you can’t go crazy now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as though he was just waiting for her beyond the doors at her back. She shook her head, allowing silence to stretch across the chamber, settling over her like a thick blanket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A soft clatter against the ground several minutes later pulled her out of her thoughts, dragging her back to reality. The orange crystal, Azem’s crystal, sat on the ground. Carefully picking it up, she ran her thumb over the cold surface. “I’m going to have to sew this into a pocket or something, it keeps falling out. It’s a pesky little thing. A reminder of this part of myself that I’ll never truly know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air seemed to grow cooler, heavier against her skin. Hades would probably laugh at how ridiculous she sounded. “I wonder what Azem was like. Was she like me? Reckless, ready to throw herself into danger at the drop of a hat? This whole “shepherd to the stars in the dark” thing seems pretty lofty, but I can’t imagine someone who would throw herself into danger just for nice grapes being uptight.” She paused, then laughed, soft and airy. “I don’t imagine Azem and Lahabrea got along, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes, I’ll get a snippet of a conversation, an argument, an emotion. Of something I couldn’t have ever experienced, but feels like a part of me. Not like the Echo, but something far more personal than that. I remembered a discussion Azem had with Hythlodaeus about whether or not you were acting more like an ass than normal the week after your appointment to the Convocation. Something about you dodging them, spending all your time buried in work. They decided the best way to handle it was to cause mischief, but my memory fades out before they actually decide exactly what </span>
  <em>
    <span>sort </span>
  </em>
  <span>of shenanigans to cause.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The memories have started to filter through more often, but none of them seem particularly important. Actually, this morning I was watching G’raha and Alisaie argue over how much sugar was too much sugar in a cup of tea and for a moment it was like I was watching Lahabrea scold Elidibus over how much sugar he was pouring into his coffee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, a thought came to her, unbidden, and she felt her chest tighten. “Could we have been friends? Not Solus zos Galvus and the Warrior of Light or Emet-Selch and Hydaelyn’s Chosen, they couldn’t be friends. But Hades and the botanist who brings wildflowers to leave in front of a random door in a phantom city. The Warrior of Light had to kill Emet-Selch, I know that. I know that if the Warrior of Light didn’t kill Emet-Selch then he would have struck her down without a thought. There’s no avoiding that. I just hope that wherever you are, whatever happens to Ascian souls after they are finally killed… I hope you’re at peace. That’s what Azem would have wanted. ...that’s what I want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having run out of things to say, the Warrior of Light just sat there. Holding vigil for her mortal enemy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Warrior of Light’s feet touched the ground, her pockets 999 gil lighter there in Revenant’s Toll. After regaining her bearings (teleportation always took the wind out of her sails for a few moments), she crossed the plaza and entered the Rising Stones, the smell of Tataru’s Archon loaf and favorite tea blend washing over her senses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, there you are! I was wondering if this Samiel creature had eaten you or something,” Alphinaud’s voice greeted her ears, sounding decidedly more annoyed than he’d been when she had left to go to Amaurot a bell past. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>G’raha peeked out from behind the divider that blocked one of the tables from the entrance, his ears twitching in what seemed to be equal parts surprise and frustration. “Ah, thank the Twelve you’re here. If anyone can talk some sense into Alisaie, it’s you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She doesn’t need to talk sense into me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Exarch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because I’m not the one who thinks it’s appropriate to add so much sugar to their tea that it doesn’t all dissolve properly!” Alisaie looks up, if only for a moment, then levels her glare back at the Miqo’te across the table, an almost cruel smile playing across her face at the sight of her adversary’s tail flicking with disdain at the mention of his old title. “Besides, I think our friend doesn’t want to get involved in our petty squabbles after a trip to the Tempest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Warrior takes a half-step back, catching Alisaie’s gaze, praying to the gods that she didn’t know where she’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone. But sure enough, she knew, the coy smile splitting her face giving her away. Of course she knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Tempest? What were you doing down there? Surely this Samiel creature can’t swim. I’m sure Qeshi-Rae would have thrown herself into the sea if that were true.” G’raha sounded puzzled, turning his attention back to the woman standing awkwardly in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scrambled for an answer for a few seconds before a small grin cracked his facade of concern. “You should see the look on your face, old friend. You didn’t think we’d catch on to your constant excuse of hunting for the Samiel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I’m sorry, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alisaie broke in this time, pushing herself to her feet, standing by her brother who shared the same pleased, if a tad bit more concerned, expression. “You found the Samiel months ago, remember? Everyone in Sweetsieve was buzzing about it, I could hardly walk a dozen ilms without someone mentioning it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As soon as you told me that you were just going to look for Samiel sheddings and then came back two bells later looking like you’d seen a ghost, it wasn’t hard to figure out where you’d been,” G’raha added, remaining seated at the table. “With all that said, you’re free to speak openly. I understand that everything that has happened since your fight with Elidibus has weighed heavily on your soul. Surely it’s better to speak to living friends than dead ones sometimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Warrior let her gaze drift between her friends, her fellow Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and let her mask slip just a little. “I am… exhausted. And I would love to talk.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading!</p>
<p>this is actually my first fic i've ever written. it was a really fun challenge. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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